I'm at home on my Jack Jones tonight, the mighty Miss Maus out on a bender (Quite literally, probably, by now), and the hatchlings are safely tucked up. So I sit back and turn the telly on, and the shit that's served up appals me, like it does every night. It's like TV producers are like Alan Partridge, when he's trying desperately for new TV ideas. ("Monkey Tennis...")
British TV, for the most part, is caught in a kind of 'cheap and cheerful' mode. Stick 'Celebrity' in front of any piss poor quiz show, and you've got got Saturday nights main event. Reality TV is a creeping, overgrowing weed, that is stifling new growth. I mean, just today on terrestrial TV we've had To Buy or Not To Buy, City Hospital, Downsize Me, Car Booty, Bargain Hunt, Cash In The Attic, The Jeremy Kyle Show, 60-Minute Makeover, Run For Glory, House Doctor, How Not to Decorate, Trisha Goddard, A Place In The Sun, and No Going Back: A New Life In France.
I frequently finding myself watching old shows on the digital channels, as it's the only decent stuff on, but a dangerous precedent has been set! I used to watch Minder and The Professionals on 'Granada Men & Motors'; but that particular channel has now been replaced by 'ITV Play' a fucking quiz show channel!!!
AAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!
Links
About Me
- Mick
- The homunculus 'Micktrimble' was hatched in 'No Hope' hospital, Sutton Coldfield in spring '74. As Sutton Coldfield was slowly dying, the homunculus' progenitors put their creation into a rocket and fired it at nearby Erdington. A primitive place, but it was thought that the creature would blend in; his talents hidden. He spent his young life endlessly doodling and honing his skills at moaning. At the end of his first instar, he spawned two more homunculi. He is now shedding his skin ready for his second instar and sketching childish doodles for publication in journals for similarly weak-minded fools.
1 comment:
I'd pay to wathc monkey tennis. That be high quality.
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